Through the Fog

We live a half hour out of town, so now that my son works at six in the morning (and because the bus service won’t get him there in time), I have an hour-long commute before the sun starts to yawn and stretch its sleepy rays across the horizon.

We also live in a valley region, and fall always brings lots of fog into the equation. This morning was worse than usual. I had to slow right down and forget about rushing to get there on time. It was necessary to clutch the steering wheel and focus all my attention a few feet in front of me for much of the ride.

I like those times, though—and I like the fog. It makes me realize that nothing is worth traipsing full-speed ahead into and that sometimes in life we are at the mercy of our circumstances. All we can do is clutch the steering wheel, hang on ferociously, and keep our focus in front of us.

There are seasons of prayer that require all of our attention, too, to safely get where we’re going. We can barely see which way to go and yet there is nothing else to do but forge ahead. It’s at those times we must slow down and tenaciously cling to our Saviour. Progress is sometimes painful, and it requires us to bow often in humility—admitting our need; crying out for direction and guidance.

But, like it did for me this morning, the fog lifts and we can relax again. Things are clearer; we can speed up a little.

My son is gearing up to get his first car, and when he does I will miss these morning commutes with him. I know it won’t be long before he’s on his own, so I treasure every moment I get, even though it isn’t always easy or fun—especially when conditions are hazardous. It won’t be long until we get to where we’re going, too—and all of the nerve-wracking situations in life we’ve had to pass through won’t even be visible in the rear-view mirror.

There’s no denying the excruciating darkness life seems to surround us with at times, and there are no pat answers or clichés clever enough to cut through it all. The fog fences us in and we must let faith be our steering wheel. Let’s cling to it with all we’ve got. God will bring us into the clearing.

Help us, Lord, to slow down during those times. To pray hard, bow often in humility, cry out for your help, and not traipse full-speed ahead into the unknown recklessly—nothing is worth missing the way for.

I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do for them; I will not forsake them (Isaiah 42:16b) NIV.

Heather McGillivray

Heather lives in Chelmsford, Ontario, with her college aged children. She knows they haven’t left yet because she’s still doing their laundry and buying lots of groceries–she just can’t figure out where they’re hiding, or what they’ve done with the van.
The most exciting thing in her life right now, apart from Jesus, is that He’s letting her write her very first novel, and she’s almost done it. She loves poetry, and could get lost for weeks at a time in a good one.

What she knows above all else, is that God hears and answers prayer–and for that she is eternally grateful. Visit her at her blog.